


I was In Time With You

by asllapiscu



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, M/M, Mutual Pining, any other characters are purely mentioned, for like .2 seconds, just focus on dumb boys pining, lorenz gets flustered a LOT tho enjoy that, lorenz lies to not hurt ferdie's feelings, not enough to tag it really, slight mention of bylinhardt, slight mention of edelthea, slightly jealous lorenz, takes place during pre-ts Ethereal Moon and just a tiiiiiiiny bit post time skip, they dance too focus on that, yet here we are with lorenz pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asllapiscu/pseuds/asllapiscu
Summary: The ball's approaching and Lorenz is having the worst luck with finding a date. He confides in his dearest friend, fellow noble, and tea fiend Ferdinand. But hearing his woes of not acquiring a date either fill Lorenz with... joy? Maybe? He's not sure. He tries not to think about it.So he lies. And avoids Ferdinand. A lot.Maybe in the end, he just knew the real truth, deep down.(Commission for mushroompillows@twt !!)
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Lorenz Hellman Gloucester
Kudos: 15





	I was In Time With You

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by my dear twin Mel mushroompillows@twt <3 ty for the commission!!!!! this was fun to write i'm sorry in advance for the ending tho lol,,,,
> 
> enjoy this very funny totally not sad at all ferdilorenz (:

There’s barely a month left and Lorenz is striking out _big_ time. No matter who he turned to, no matter how many roses he’s plucked from the greenhouse (without Dedue’s notice, thankfully) and no matter how many gifts he has prepared - _none_ of his usual courting tactics have worked. It has been rejection after rejection after _rejection._

Lorenz sighs at his cup of tea, trying desperately to pay attention to whatever Ferdinand is going on about now (perhaps something along the lines of how _fortunate_ Lorenz is to have Manuela teach his class). Lorenz takes a careful sip of his tea, trying not to dwell on his misfortunes and instead on his delightful daily tea time with Ferdinand. This wasn’t the time to wallow over the missed opportunities, but instead to enjoy himself with his dear friend and fellow tea aficionado. 

“ … But then get this, Lorenz! Dorothea tells me, despite going alone even if I were the _last_ possible option for her, she informs me she’s going with Edelgard to the ball! _Edelgard!”_

Ah. Perhaps paying attention to Ferdinand’s mindless chatter would have been more beneficial. 

“Consider yourself grateful then, Ferdinand. She is still a commoner, after all. Someone of your noble status should consider better options.”

“Are you suggesting Dorothea isn’t a suitable option? I find her to be quite lovely.”

“Lovely, yes. A rare beauty in that one. But don’t you worry about keeping nobility within nobility? Has your father not spoken to you about this?”

Ferdinand looks at Lorenz with a perplexed expression. That means he’s _thinking_ again, and Lorenz could very well be waiting _hours_ before he even hears a response. He sighs once more, grabbing his cup of tea before Ferdinand snaps his fingers.

“I believe he has, but not to an extreme extent. I am free to marry whomever I choose, so long as I deem them fit for my family and myself.”

Lorenz raises a brow, shocked by this answer. His entire life, his parents have drilled into him _It is nobility and_ **_just that._ ** It’s his duty as the heir of the Gloucester name to carry on the lineage, to bring in a suitable spouse and produce the next heir.

Yet Ferdinand, similar to Lorenz in so many ways, is just as different as well. Both shackled yet proud of their nobility, their _namesake_ \- but Ferdinand has more freedom.

Lorenz does not.

He clears his throat.

“So then I take it Dorothea and the imperial princess are out of the question in terms of ball dates?”

“It would seem so, friend,” Ferdinand laughs, but Lorenz can spot a small glimmer of sorrow behind it. Has Lady Luck also forsaken him?How absurd! Why, Lorenz aside, Ferdinand is the _next_ best choice as a date to the ball! Never mind his fixation on horses or his incisive need to be seen as a gallant noble and nothing less; Ferdinand has so many charming attributes and a quality of life to offer! How could these women simply refuse?

Why, if Lorenz were a woman himself…

Though he doesn’t _need_ to be one to -

**_You must find a suitable spouse, and produce the next heir._ **

  
  


All at once, Lorenz feels… uneasy. He sets his unfinished tea down and proceeds to force himself from his seat. 

“I apologize my friend, but it seems I have forgotten some of my academic obligations and must cut our tea time short today.”

“Oh. It’s quite all right. I’ll take care of the mess here, I’m sure Petra or Bernadetta would appreciate our leftover treats. You go on ahead.”

Lorenz swallows hard at the idea, trying to ignore the growing pit in his stomach. Instead, he bids Ferdinand a farewell and speeds quickly out of the gardens. 

It was a lie. _Obviously_ it was a lie. But dangerous thoughts were creeping up. He couldn’t sink into them. Not again.

Perhaps… Hilda would enjoy this sweet from the tea time and reconsider his proposal to the ball. Perhaps so.

  
  
  
  
  


There’s only just two weeks until the ball, and Lorenz still has no date to show for it. 

As it turns out, Hilda and Marianne are going together - _“No boys allowed!”_ were her exact words. So, those two were out. No use arguing against Hilda.

He considered Lysithea for the slightest moment. _Only_ the slightest. Truthfully, Lorenz hadn’t asked because she is too young. He sees her more of a younger sister than anything else. It didn’t feel _right._ It also didn’t help that Lysithea couldn’t bear his company outside of academic obligations.

He toyed with the idea of asking Leonie, despite being a commoner. But he didn’t want to offend her. Even if it were for just one night, he didn’t want Leonie to accidentally fall for his outstanding charms and grace! Then he’d be held responsible for breaking such a hardened heart. No, it simply wouldn’t do. He cares for Leonie deeply, but would never do that to her.

Of course he asked ladies who attended the other houses - but just as Ferdinand himself had confided prior, Lorenz received similar reception.

_“No.”_

_“No way!”_

_“Not interested.”_

_“Already have a date.”_

The list goes _on._

How frustrating! Do the women of this academy not see what a perfect and suitable gentleman Lorenz is? He could show anyone a wonderful time! It would just have to be their loss. Maybe he won’t have a date to the ball, but his time at the academy is still young. It takes _time_ to find the perfect spouse, after all.

Lorenz hadn’t realized, however, how lost in thought he was over his cascade of rejections, that he was stumbling onto the horse stables. He looked around for a brief moment, wondering how exactly he managed to get there, until he heard a shout of his name.

“Lorenz! Excellent timing, I was just about done with training today!” Ferdinand is the one behind the shouting, and Lorenz has to resist turning beet red at the image before him. He couldn’t dare to tear his eyes away, no matter how hard he tried. Ferdinand’s toned arms were bare to the world and covered in sweat as he jumped off his horse. His neck is fully exposed too - did Ferdinand always train like this?! What dignity does he have as a _nobleman,_ parading himself around so easily for all to see?! “Let me put away my dear friend, wash up, and we can sit down for some tea.”

“T-Tea?!” Lorenz nearly yelps, but manages to restrain himself (mostly). He clears his throat, turning away so Ferdinand wouldn’t _dare_ to look at his flustered face. Lorenz could feel and hear the pounding of his heart so easily in his ears, what is going on…? 

_This is clearly Ferdinand’s fault but_ how? 

“I-I’m sorry Ferdinand, but I cannot join you today! The ball is ever approaching and I must rehearse, you understand!”

“Rehearse? Oh my - did you get selected for the White Heron’s Cup?”

… _What?_

“Well, that explains why you kept avoiding me, then! Here I was worried I had done something to offend you!”

Lorenz can feel a stone in his chest, sinking deeper and deeper. Ferdinand thought Lorenz was… avoiding him? Well… it is a safe assumption, he supposes. He nearly ran off after their last tea time, and hadn’t attended one again since. Lorenz was trying to occupy his mind with other matters, not at all trying to delve deeper into the last subject they had talked about.

_The freedom to choose whomever you wish to marry… Despite being a noble…_ Lorenz thinks to himself, facing Ferdinand once more. The sweat that was once there is now washed away by the running faucet near the staples, which Lorenz notices right as he shrugs his academy jacket back on. His neck and hands are still _bare,_ and the fact that Lorenz even gets flustered still by _just that_ is jarring to him. 

Did their last conversation really shake him up that much? So much so that he subconsciously avoided a fellow noble - nay, a friend? It… is possible. Among other things. But for now, he needs to find a way out of this mess.

He looks at Ferdinand’s proud face, the shine in his eyes nearly as bright as his smile.

_Oh Goddess, what has he done?_

“B-But of course!” Lorenz lies through his teeth, kicking himself mentally already. All too soon though, Ferdinand’s smile grows wider as he rushes over and grabs Lorenz’s shoulders. He embraces him, tightly, and Lorenz feels instantly at ease. His sinking heart jumps back up into place, but now is beating and drumming in his ears profusely. 

“That is wonderful news! Of course that explains everything! You must tell me how rehearsals have been going tonight!”

“T-Tonight?”

“Yes! After your rehearsal! Let’s grab dinner together and catch up! I have _much_ to tell you from the last two weeks!”

“I see… Very well. Yes. I will see you tonight then.”

“Splendid!” Ferdinand claps his hands together, Lorenz still noting their gloveless appearance. He swallows a lump, but does his best to keep up his smile. He waves Ferdinand off, quickly picking up his pace towards his house’s instruction room.

He needs to speak to Professor Manuela and he needs to speak to her _now._

  
  
  
  
  


What Lorenz did _not_ expect was his professor laughing right at his face. Is this really the woman Ferdinand respected and admired? _If only he saw her true colors… She’s practically a mess of a woman._ She’s still laughing after he has the thought, and proceeds to clear his throat to bring her attention back to him.

“Excuse me _professor,_ but I simply do not see what is so funny about my request.”

Manuela straightens herself out, her laughter dying down. She looks back to Lorenz, her eyes now piercing and _deathly_ serious. Right. Professor Manuela can be… a little terrifying. (Maybe a lot.) 

(He suddenly regrets his former thoughts about her, almost afraid she could read his mind and saw what he said.) 

(No, Lorenz, you’re simply being paranoid, don’t be ridiculous.)

“Why the sudden interest, Gloucester? You know we already chose our representative for the house.”

Lorenz grimances at the answer. Technically Hilda was chosen, but knowing her, she’s skipped most (if not all) the practices. Time is quickly running out and he needs to find a suitable excuse.

He swallows the lump in his throat.

“Y-You see my dear professor, I’ve actually been training… in secret,” another lie, how deep will this well go? “I do not wish to disregard the… _hard_ work of my other classmates, especially that of Hilda, but I know you hold the longest winning streak for the cup. I believe if you could guide me in the right direction, and relieve the duty from Hilda, we can keep your streak going.”

Manuela looks at him with understanding eyes, stroking her chin in thought. Is she… really considering this? He has no choice but to persuade anyway, to keep the act up around Ferdinand. Then, she nods and smiles - and Lorenz could swear it’s nearly _wicked._

“We start now. You have a lot of catching up to do.”

Oh. Oh _Goddess!_ What has he gotten himself into?

  
  
  
  
  


By the time dinner is called, Lorenz is sore and beyond exhausted. As a child, he had taken plenty of dancing lessons, as it was expected of him. And in a way, lance training could almost be seen as “dancing,” if one were to consider its fluid motions and stances. But Professor Manuela is nothing but a professional in the end. Her years as a star of an opera company really came through during their lesson, and she nearly worked Lorenz through the grinder.

“Yes, you certainly show more promise than Hilda. There’s only less than a week until the Heron Cup, but if we continue this every day, I’ll make a dancer out of you yet!” Her eyes nearly sparkle at the thought of that, but Lorenz _knows_ he’s signed up for hell.

Well, at least _now_ he’s no longer lying to his friend. And he’s sure Hilda would be more than grateful to find out she no longer has an obligation to participate, what with Lorenz taking her place. This is ridiculous - but what’s done is done.

When Lorenz arrives at the dining hall, he instantly finds Ferdinand - and _Bernadetta._ She’s not sitting with him, but they seem to be talking lively about something. Lorenz never actually thought the Varley heir could be so expressive. Just one shock after another today, it would seem. 

As Lorenz approaches the table, he clears his throat to announce his presence, and he sees the quick shift of a comfortable Bernadetta to her usual timid demeanor. She turns to Ferdinand and bids an apologetic farewell before running off. Lorenz raises a brow, but Ferdinand only motions for him to take a seat.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen von Varley so lively before,” Lorenz comments as he takes his seat and looks at the meal before him. Ferdinand picked up his dinner along with his own. How thoughtful. Ferdinand was always like that, wasn’t he? Lorenz does his best not to dwell on it as he begins to eat his meal.

“Oh, yes! Bernadetta was just talking to me about a possible project we’re working on. I’m grateful she accepted the proposal.” Lorenz nearly chokes on his food. _Proposal._ Did Ferdinand…? Is he taking the Varley heir to the ball? Lorenz reaches for his glass of water and tries to regain his composure. “Ah, but you wouldn’t want to hear the details of that, I’m sure. Maybe some other time? Why not tell me how your training with Manuela went!”

Right. _Right._ The real reason they’re having dinner together. Lorenz hates how stuck on the word “proposal” he is, but he has to feign a smile. What does it matter to him if Ferdinand and Bernadetta go to the ball together? If anything, he should be delighted for his friend. She is a suitable noble, if only a little odd. But they seemed… so comfortable around each other, just now. 

Wait, Ferdinand is still waiting on a response. Oh, no. All right, push such bittersweet thoughts out. Focus on the now.

“She is nothing but a professional, I must say,” which isn’t entirely too far from the truth. To think he has to suffer _days_ more of grueling training. He nearly shivers at the thought. “I must meet for training every day until the day of the competition. Manuela wants me in tip top form.”

“So rigorous! I must say Lorenz, I’m - ”

“Envious? Oh dear Aegir, how often must I hear that?” But Lorenz notices a puzzled look on his companion’s face and can’t help but to match it.

“No, I was going to say _proud._ I’m proud of you, Lorenz.”

“W-What?” It comes out quiet at first, Lorenz trying to hold up a polite smile. Ferdinand is _proud_ of him? Just for working with Manuela? “Whatever for?”

Ferdinand smiles and Lorenz feels his chest tighten. Oh no. Oh no, no, _no._

“This is the first time since the year started that I’ve really seen you try something out of your comfort zone. And you’re clearly working hard. I know you’re hiding it, but I can see the exhaustion in your eyes.”

Since when was Ferdinand so perspective?! Out of the two, Lorenz would swear on his own grave that he had better observational skills than Ferdinand! Of course he does! Yet here is Ferdinand, practically _looking_ into Lorenz’s soul and picking him apart. It’s simply _unnerving._ Lorenz ends up looking up out of embarrassment. 

But then he feels two hands grasp his, forcing him to turn back to Ferdinand, who’s only smiling even _wider_ than before. How! How is he doing that! How _dare_ he do that!

“Lorenz, there is actually something I wanted to ask you.” Ferdinand’s voice is firm, yet gentle. His stare is relentless, and Lorenz can’t find it in him to pull away this time. This… whatever _this_ is, it’s _dangerous._ Lorenz need to leave, he needs to get out of this -

The Goddess must have heard his prayers, because now Hubert stays at the end of the table, staring at the two of them. Ferdinand’s smile drops, but he doesn’t let Lorenz’s hands go.

“I’m _terribly_ sorry to interrupt,” Lorenz knows for a fact that Hubert doesn’t mean that for a single second. “But Edelgard requires your presence, Ferdinand.”

“Is that right?” He finally lets Lorenz’s hands go, his voice now a little somber. He grabs his tray of dinner, and looks over at Lorenz with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry my friend, but it seems we’ll have to put our conversation on hold for tonight. If you have any free time in the coming days however, please find me so we may finish, all right?”

Lorenz watches the two as they walk out of the dining hall, trying to ignore the lingering warmth on his hands and the drastic beating of his heart in his ears.

  
  
  
  
  


Lorenz never does go out of his way to find Ferdinand afterwards.

  
  
  
  
  


The night before the Heron Cup, Lorenz is lying awake in his bed. He feels dizzy thinking about the spinning and the dancing he had to endure over the past week. He’s sure his feet have blisters now (the horror!). The practice music plays over and over in his head, to the point he finds himself humming it, and it nearly irritates him. 

All this for a lie.

All this for a _boy._

Lorenz doesn’t pretend to hide it, anymore. At least, not at this moment. When he’s alone in his room, in his thoughts, he’s _just_ Lorenz. The Gloucester name will never escape him, but it can in this small space. In this space where he created a dream that winning the Heron Cup will gain him more praise from Ferdinand. A dream where they go to the ball together, and he shows Ferdinand all the dances he suffered to learn - just to impress him. A dream where he can smell the mix of Ferdinand’s favorite tea and the woods he frequents when he rides his horse. A dream where Lorenz is free to choose whom he can be with -

To be with Ferdinand.

He sighs instantly after the thought. It is only but a passing fancy, nonetheless. That’s what he has to tell himself. Nothing will come out of this. He’ll enter the Heron Cup, as that was the lie he used to avoid hurting Ferdinand’s feelings, and to distance himself from his friend _safely._ Because this “passing fancy” is a dangerous one. No matter how much Lorenz can dream and fancy in this space of his, once he walks out, the heavy duty of his title rests upon his shoulders once more.

Lorenz is the Gloucester heir. He must find a suitable wife, and bear the next heir in the Gloucester line. He must take back the Alliance from Claude, and strengthen his family’s name.

He turns in his bed. When he closes his eyes, he pushes away the thought of bright eyes and golden hair.

  
  
  
  
  


Dorothea of the Black Eagles house won the Heron Cup, in the end. Yet Manuela didn’t seem upset - in fact, she looked very _proud._ But of course she did. Dorothea was practically her junior in their opera days. Yet Manuela still approached Lorenz afterwards, and handed him a bouquet of roses, congratulating him for his hard work. She is proud of him too, she says.

Lorenz doesn’t know how to respond.

  
  
  
  
  


It’s the night of the ball, and Lorenz still has no date. Perhaps this was for the best. Claude once made a passing remark that going single meant more opportunity to mingle, but Lorenz knows Claude only wants to _network,_ not mingle. Lorenz doesn’t wish to do either, not tonight. He is showing up so that everyone will be graced with his presence, and to show how _true_ nobility must act at such events - with dignity and pride.

As he walks through the ball, he manages to see many of his classmates already dancing about. He notices others keeping to themselves, and he has half a thought to ask if any would like to dance. He hadn’t danced since the Heron Cup, and his legs ache terribly - almost as if they _missed_ being tossed around. No matter, he’ll consider dancing after retrieving a drink.

On his way to the refreshment table, his eye catches onto the familiar golden hair. It’s twirling in circles and spins, with a small frame beside him. _Von Varley._ So it seems that Lorenz’s earlier assumption was correct. She rethought his offer and now there they are, _dancing._

Suddenly Lorenz doesn’t want a drink. He wants to _dance._

Much to his delight (and surprise, though he’d never admit it out loud), many female students eagerly accept his offer to dance. It would seem the Heron Cup painted Lorenz in a new light to his classmates. Nearly all the girls he manages to dance with were impressed with his dancing, and even express how distraught they were of his loss. For a moment, Lorenz feels more comfortable, feels _right_ in what he was doing. He merely has to keep this up for the rest of the night -

“Excuse me, do you mind if I cut in?” A familiar voice brings Lorenz back, and he feels frozen. Ferdinand appears behind Lorenz’s current dance partner, flashing his gentle smile. Lorenz’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Oh! I’m sorry Lord Aegir, but I wish to dance with Lord Gloucester just a bit more, but I can find you after?” The girl responds, believing the offer to be hers. Right. Of course. Ferdinand would _never_ ask Lorenz for -

“Actually miss, I would like to dance with Lord Gloucester, if that’s all right with you both?”

_Goddess above, what did Lorenz do to deserve such divine punishment?_

The girl looks confused, but nods nonetheless and moves off to find another dance partner. All at once, Lorenz feels Ferdinand place an arm around his waist and holds his hand with the other. Without thinking, Lorenz follows Ferdinand's lead.

“You never came to find me.”

Lorenz can feel his face warm up, and his mind drawing a blank. How did he get into this situation? He only came to the ball to make face, and planned to leave promptly after. He even saw Byleth and Linhardt sneak off earlier - they had the right idea! Now Lorenz is in the arms of the man who’s been torturing his thoughts for the past month and it’s too late to escape _now._

“I’m sorry Ferdinand. After the cup, I’ve been busy with my studies. We did have exams before the ball, after all.” It was the only excuse Lorenz could conjure on the spot. What else could he say? That he dreamt of Ferdinand’s bare arms from when he saw them that one day at the stables? Or how his stomach turned when he saw Ferdinand talking and dancing with von Varley? It’s ridiculous - all of it! People should be falling at _his_ feet! Not the other way around!

But Ferdinand smiles at Lorenz, keeping their rhythm steady as they kept swaying on the dance floor. 

“I never got to finish what I wanted to tell you.”

“You didn’t,” Lorenz acknowledges, but releases a cough. “I see Bernadetta has come around to your invitation. I am happy for you.”

At that, Ferdinand frowned, and it nearly broke Lorenz’s heart. Now this is all just too unfair!

“Is that what you think?” Ferdinand sighs and shakes his head. Lorenz raises a brow, as he swears he hears Ferdinand mumble something to himself.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not here with Bernadetta. We shared a dance, yes, but it was out of gratitude.”

“What?” At this point, Lorenz feels more lost than ever. He was just fine moments before, dancing with different girls and showing his Gloucester charm! He was fine ignoring Ferdinand and thinking that he and von Varley would make a wonderful union for the empire! It was all fine! Perfectly fine! But now he’s lost and confused but _warm -_ warm at the touch of Ferdinand, the close proximity they share, how Ferdinand _stares_ at Lorenz - all of it! It’s maddening! “I don’t _understand.”_ He finally lets out with a frustrated sigh. 

This is a mess. This is not _at all_ how he pictured this evening.

Ferdinand smiles then, leaning close to Lorenz’s ear. He almost shivers at the warm breath.

“Follow me,” Ferdinand whispers as he leads the two out of the ballroom, out of the ball itself, into the courtyard. It’s just them two there, alone under the moonlit sky. Ferdinand takes position again and starts lulling them into a dance once more. Lorenz is more confused than before. “I have to tell you something.”

“Then just _say_ it,” Lorenz hisses, tired of all the games and the confusion and this _puzzling_ behavior. He doesn’t want to comment on how much he’s enjoying this time with Ferdinand. It’s a dangerous confession.

“I wanted to invite you to the ball,” Ferdinand finally admits, and Lorenz feels… What does he feel? Elated? Overjoyed? Angry? He’s not sure. Is he glad he heard it out loud? Perhaps so, and yet… It doesn’t feel _enough._ Not enough to -

To what?

“Lorenz, I know you want to strengthen the Gloucester name. I want to do the same with the von Aegir name. In the empire, I am able to do just that. No opposition, no fighting - the Alliance won’t give you that. Especially since your father already works fairly close with the empire as is.”

How does Ferdinand know that? Did his father speak with Lorenz’s? Lorenz isn’t the most secretive person; rather, he prides himself intensely with his honesty and openness. But the only ones who know about the Gloucester land are the imperial family and those within the Alliance. Ferdinand’s father is only a prime minister. 

“Lorenz,” Ferdinand continues, pulling Lorenz all around the courtyard. He almost feels dizzy, just like when he was practicing with Manuela. Sickening and heavy as lead. Why? Why? Why? “Have you considered joining the empire?”

They stop dancing. The school’s clock begins to chime, announcing the newest hour. Lorenz hears it closely - one chime, two chimes, three, four, then five and six and seven and eight, to nine - and with each passing sound, his nerves feel more and _more_ on fire.

Join… the empire? Leave the Alliance? Strengthen the Gloucester name under a different rulership? 

His head is spinning, despite no longer dancing. He feels the words heavy on his mind, as he considers, _for a fraction of a second,_ the possibility of defecting to the empire. The Gloucesters could fight the Alliance head on. They can claim territory and stop Claude from tarnishing the Alliance’s good name -

No. _No._ _Lorenz_ would be doing that. If he went to the empire, _he_ would be ruining the Alliance. Who else will ensure that Claude properly controls the masses? Hilda? Absolutely not. And besides, he _plans_ to take the leadership position _from_ Claude. He can’t well do that from within the empire. No.

No he can’t.

Lorenz lets Ferdinand go and backs away. He sighs, his heart and head heavy. Once, he dreamt of a possibility of holding and dancing Ferdinand. As living as freely as he could, while still being a noble. But not like this. Not under these circumstances.

Lorenz offers Ferdinand a strained smile.

“Thank you for the dance, Ferdinand. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

Lorenz immediately returns to his room.

  
  
  
  
  


It has been five years. Lorenz no longer dreams of bright eyes and golden hair. In fact, Lorenz no longer dreams, at all. How can one sleep with the empire at their very doorstep, ready to bust the doors open? No matter how much his father insists, Lorenz _refuses_ to forfeit their land to the empire. It doesn’t matter to him how much the Alliance is on the brink of ruins, he’ll fight to the very end to keep as much of the Alliance alive.

Lorenz may not dream as much anymore, but he still thinks about the offer, every now and then. He has to, to remind himself what exactly it _is_ he’s fighting for. He already said no once before, years back; he’s not going back on his word now.

In the most recent council meeting, Claude mentions a final mission against the empire. Lorenz knows it sounds like a goodbye - this isn’t how he wanted to take over the Alliance. But Claude knows, as well as he, that no one else is suited to keep the power and the ideals of the Alliance as alive as Lorenz. It’s that truth and belief that Lorenz takes with him as he heads off onto battle one day, defending the bridge on his land.

It has been five years. Ferdinand has changed so much, yet not much at all. Lorenz doesn’t dream of him, or his freedom, anymore. Instead, Lorenz dreams of his own future. Of taking down the empire, and strengthening not just Gloucester’s name, but the Alliance _itself._

It’s just such a shame.

Lorenz knew one day he’d see Ferdinand in battle. He tried his best to avoid it, but who was he kidding? He could never escape, no matter how hard he tried. Crossing paths was inevitable. He’ll have to come to terms with the outcomes of this battle, whether he liked it or not.

For Gloucester. For the Alliance.

For _himself._

Unfortunately for Lorenz, Ferdinand pierces him with his lance. Lorenz falls to the ground, barely hearing his horse running off to retrieve help, as it had been trained. Dying at Ferdinand’s hand? How fitting, so much so he could laugh.

Lorenz isn’t sure if it’s an illusion caused by the loss of blood from his body, or Ferdinand pitying him, but he swears in his final moments he tastes the familiar scent of tea and woods on his lips as he slips into the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on twt @/mythxl !! tysm for reading <3


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